Touch Me Not
by D17-pharaohfox
Summary: [Orichalcos Saga/Retcon fic][slightly inspired from Famous Fault's profile][Pharaoh whump] Having captured the Pharaoh and taking turns to watch, Rafael begins to wonder, were they really the good guys?
1. Chapter 1

Please note that Yu-Gi-Oh! is the property of its respective owner/s. Not me

AN:  
- Please refer to my profile should you have any questions regarding:

Writing style

Update Schedule

Story Data

- If the answers are not in my profile, then don't hesitate to send me a message.  
- Slightly inspired by something on Famous Fault's profile

**WARNINGS: Immature Valon and Amelda. **

* * *

**Touch Me Not  
Chapter 1**

"NO!"

The bikers winced as a huge slam accompanied that cry. Only one didn't look away when the enraged individual stomped towards them, frightening eyes set in a serpentine glare.

"What is this?" Dartz growled, his eyes making headlong collision with sky blue irises. "Did I not give clear instructions that it is the Pharaoh I want up that wall?"

Rafael frowned. "I defeated him in the duel, master. So his soul sho—"

"CLEARLY YOU HAVE BEEN MISINFORMED!"

Rafael looked away, not wanting to enrage his lord any further. It was a wise move on his part. Dartz took a breath, his anger knocked down a peg or two.

"The Pharaoh's spirit inhabits a boy's body." Dartz started. Head lowered while he rubbed his temples, he slowly walked towards the altar. Upon reaching his destination, he looked up, eyes still angry though not as much as before. "You were not going against just one spirit. But two." He gestured for Rafael to approach him, which the latter did without hesitation. As soon as he reached his side, he gestured to one of the many slabs adorning the wall before them. "It was not the Pharaoh that you captured. Rather, it was the boy whose body the Pharaoh inhabits."

Rafael took a moment to study the slab designated for the Pharaoh's soul. It held a boy. Though he looked similar to the Pharaoh, he could tell that he was not the one they sought. He took a deep breath before turning to his lord, his head lowered in submissive apology. "I apologize for this mistake. Give me another chance. I will defeat the Pharaoh and bring back his soul."

"No..."

Rafael looked up, wanting to insist. But stopped short when he saw the stoic glare his lord was giving him.

"Bring the Pharaoh to me. Body and soul." Dartz said, keeping his eyes glued to the slab dominated walls. "I will personally strip his soul from the body."

"Bu—" Rafael was silenced by a glare. He let out a sigh. "Of course... Master Dartz" He turned to leave without even a glance back, ignoring Valon's hesitant call.

…

"He is near, I can feel his power. Stay close to the trail. And do _not_ fail me again"

Rafael rubbed his temple, feeling the aftereffects of Dartz's telepathy. Skidding his bike to a perfectly timed halt at the edge of a cliff, he scanned the area. A train station was up ahead, near enough for him to see anyone but not enough to distinguish any faces. However, seeing the spiky head disappearing through a soon-to-be departing train was enough to confirm that he has found his target.

The train blew its whistle, his bike roaring not long after.

…

Rafael had, long ago, learned to expect the unexpected. That anything could happen at any given time. But he was never prepared for what just happened. Unintentionally ignoring Dartz's shrieks inside his head, he watched, wide eyed and in immobilizing terror, as the train plummeted off the tracks. He could hear the few occupants screaming. So far that was all he could hear. A young man and a young woman screaming in terror. He barely registered the sickening, bone chilling crash as the train was reduced to a pile of crushed, broken, and dented metal.

It took an entire minute for his senses to return to him. And when it did, he immediately rushed into action. Sliding down the angled side of the cliff, he reached the bottom under a minute. He started combing through the wreckage, eyes and ears alert for any sign of life.

And then he heard it...

It was faint. So weak that he almost dismissed it as a trick of the river that ran close by. But it came again. A quiet moan, the owner clearly in agony. He carefully approached where he believed he heard it, his ears straining to hear any other cry. Pushing what was once a door, Rafael bit his lip upon seeing what—rather, who lay beneath.

The pharaoh's eyes were half closed, teeth weakly clenched. His lower half was buried beneath the wreckage. He had cuts and welts all over. And judging from the red liquid staining the metal crushing his hip, his lower half was in worse shape. He stared at Rafael who began pushing the metal off of him

"Is he still alive? Good. Bring him to me"

Rafael made quick work of the metal that pinned the king down. He frowned upon seeing the legs and an arm twisted in all the wrong places. As the Pharaoh turned to face him, their eyes locked, his own widening upon contact with hurt and despaired wine colored orbs.

"I have sent Amelda and Valon to your location should you need any help in restraining the Pharaoh."

"I don't think there is a need for that." Rafael mumbled to himself, his hard gaze tenderized by sympathy as he watched the Pharaoh trying—and ultimately failing—to hide his tears. He shuffled closer to his injured target, carefully stepping over some dented metal in the way.

The Pharaoh flinched as Rafael loomed over him. He kept silent as his eyes remained glued to Rafael's. He made an attempt to move away as the latter bent to pick him up. But it was futile. To his surprise, the man he had identified as an enemy handled him carefully, making sure not to aggravate any of his wounds. Despite that, the Pharaoh remained alert and tense, as he was too weak to put up a struggle. His arms were pressed to his chest, knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists, and frightened wine colored eyes turning a shade of fierce, battle-ready crimson as he regarded his captor/savior. There was no way he would consider dropping his guard in the enemy's presence. Even when said enemy was holding him like a newly wedded groom would to his bride.

Rafael just stared at his thrall, not knowing what to say. He couldn't assure him that he would be alright. Not with what Dartz planned to do to him. "You can relax. I won't hurt you." He said evenly.

The Pharaoh's eyes narrowed in distrust and exhaustion. His vision was going in and out of focus and he could only hear every other word Rafael was saying. He was vaguely aware of the sudden gust of wind that blew around them and the beating sound of spinning blades before he fell unconscious.

A helicopter had arrived, landing a few meters from Rafael and the Pharaoh. Opening the door and taking a rather exaggerated exit, Valon trotted towards his comrade and the now unconscious man in his arms. "'uh boy... Tha' doesn't look too good" He murmured upon scanning the Pharaoh. "Doesn't look so tough now." He added playfully. "Anywho, we need to get going. Dartz wants to see him for himself"

Dartz was livid. No. He was beyond that. Never before had he felt so angry and held back as he glared daggers at the Pharaoh's unconscious form, his eyes finding it difficult to steer away from the mangled limbs. He grit his teeth, then opened his mouth for a retort, but he stopped short. He had seen from Rafael's eyes that the train had fallen. He knew the Pharaoh was injured from that fall, but he did not know that it was to this extent. How was he supposed to duel him when he's in no condition for it?

"Master Dartz?"

With a growl, he turned away with a flare of his robes and swept through the entrance of Paradius, leaving behind his three dumb founded swordsmen with the unconscious monarch.

"Master Dartz!"

Dartz stopped with a sigh. The first one was Rafael. Now. "Leave me be, Valon"

"What about—"

"Keep an eye on him and make sure he recovers soon. I can't possibly duel him like that." Dartz said irritably as he turned to glare at his henchmen

With that, he vanished down the hall.

Silence had fallen upon the three Swordsmen until Valon turned to his fellows, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Did he just order us to be babysitters?"

* * *

And there you have it. When will this be updated? I don't know. I'm rather busy. But one thing's for sure: If I can't continue, I'll take this down.


	2. Chapter 2

Please note that Yu-Gi-Oh! is the property of its respective owner/s. Not me

**Touch Me Not  
Chapter 2**

"Still out cold?"

"Yup"

"What? But it's been five hours."

"Apparently, being severely injured could do that to you."

"You do know I can sense sarcasm, right Amelda?"

Rafael simply sighed as Valon and Amelda continued to argue beyond that door. Shaking his head, he turned back to the person lying on the bed before him. "Dartz initially wanted you in the dungeon. But with your case." His gaze shifted to the limbs wrapped in white."He changed his mind."

The Pharaoh was placed in a fairly large and well furnished room. The walls and floor were made of marble and were the color of sand. The four poster bed he rested on was of fine oak with cream sheets and white pillows. Beside the bed was a small table where the Pharaoh's deck, dueldisk, and Puzzle rested. Wind constantly blew through the open balcony.

Rafael smirked. For a prisoner, the Pharaoh was treated well, unless one counted the steel collar around the Pharaoh's neck, held by a chain secured to one of the bed's posts. Rafael frowned. He didn't think it was necessary to chain the Pharaoh, especially since the king broke both legs, but Dartz felt the need to do so. He was convinced that the Pharaoh might be able to escape. He, Valon, and Amelda had shared odd looks when their leader presented paranoia induced theories.

"Master Dartz is treating you well." Rafael started. "Even if you don't deserve it." he added with a growl. Dartz had told him that this pharaoh was dark and evil, having done so many atrocities in the name of power. 'his actions proved it.' Rafael thought as he recalled the Pharaoh's behavior during their duel. "No wonder why your own court turned against you and sealed you in the Puzzle." He said, glaring at the upsidedown pyramid by the Pharaoh's deck. "You treated your people as though they were nothing but pawns in your games." he was getting angry now. Just thinking about what this Pharaoh had done was making his blood boil. To him, 3000 years of imprisonment was not enough after hearing everything Dartz had told him about the king. "You were the reason why Egypt fell to darkness."

"No..."

He snapped his surprised eyes to the source of the weak and trembling voice. His sky blue irises met the wine red orbs of the Pharaoh. Topping that, the eyes he believed to have passively watched millions die were shimmering with tears. It didn't phase him one bit. Dartz had told him that the Pharaoh lost his memories and currently believed himself to be good. He idly wondered how much the Pharaoh heard.

"No." The Pharaoh repeated, with more conviction this time. "That's not true." Tears fell. "I sealed myself to save Egypt from the darkness."

Rafael closed his eyes, a smirk adorned his lips. "Are you sure about that?" he opened his eyes. As expected, uncertainty marred the Pharaoh's face, even though his confidence masked it quite well. "You've lost your memories. How can you say you were a good Pharaoh when you don't remember anything about your past."

"I—"

"You were imprisoned in the Puzzle. You treated your monsters and the person who freed you like they are pawns. You value victory above anything else." Rafael said, his fists clenching by his sides. He couldn't understand how someone could treat those who served him like that. Anger continued to bubble within him.

That was it. Remembering his duel against the king, disgust filled him. The Pharaoh was not a true duelist like he expected. He was disappointed and angry. Very. Angry. So he stood up and turned away, heading for the door. Before exiting...

"Your recent actions speak a lot about who you are."

…

He couldn't sleep

He continued to stare up the ceiling, his thoughts focused on the Pharaoh. Rafael growled. 'The Pharaoh is weak, pathetic, and useless.' He thought. 'How his soul contained such power, I wouldn't know'

But those eyes that had stared at him. He found it difficult to believe that they could hold grief that deep.

'The Pharaoh slaughtered millions in the name of power' His thoughts told him as he held the Orichalcos pendant—the one he took from the Pharaoh's neck—over his eyes. 'He's nothing but a monster who deserves to burn and to—' His eyes widened as his thoughts were cut off by a searing heat emanating from the now glowing pendant in his hand. Instinctively he threw the cause away and bolted up, staring at the Orichalcos stone from across the room—now having ceased in its ominous glow—as though it was a poisonous creature that nearly killed him.

The stone only glowed when it sensed darkness within the bearer's heart.

At least that was what Dartz told him. He stared at his hand. It was red at the center where the stone burned his skin.

Why did the stone burn when Dartz deemed him pure?

He was interrupted from his musings when the door suddenly swung open, revealing an excited Valon.

"Rafael, We gotta go to the Temple!" Valon said quickly. "Dartz has found a way to take the Pharaoh's soul without having to duel him." And with that, he left, leaving Rafael to stare at the spot he once occupied.

…

"Good of you to join us, Rafael."

Rafael acknowledged Dartz's greeting—despite it being seeped in sarcasm—with a curt nod. "I apologize for being lat—" He stopped, mouth hanging open and eyes wide for a few seconds before he recovered, masking his surprise with his practiced poker face.

Before him lay the Pharaoh, spread-eagled over the Seal imprinted on the temple floor. He, Valon, Amelda, and Dartz stood around him—Dartz by the head, Valon and Amelda by the arms, and him by the legs.

"Now we can begin."

Dartz began to chant in a strange language—presumably Atlantean. The Swordsmen looked around as the fires upon the torches began to dance despite the absence of wind. The light dimmed and flickered and the invisible wind howled.

Then the Pharaoh screamed.

All three swordsmen jumped upon hearing the pained cry. They were shocked to see that the Seal around the Pharaoh was alight in green flames

…

Pain ripped through the Pharaoh's body as though someone was trying to rip his heart out while constantly stabbing him with white hot knives all over. He thrashed his head from side to side, his remaining good limb pulling at the shackle holding it. Another tug at his heart. He arched up and shrieked inhumanely.

Rafael looked away, very much tempted to cover his ears. Never had he heard a scream like that. Dartz was literally ripping the Pharaoh's soul from his body!

Dartz continued to chant steadily, but the crease in his brow revealed just how strained he was. Something was fighting against his magic. It was pulling against his pull, playing tug of war and actually winning. When it became apparent that he could not take the Pharaoh's soul, he released his hold on the king.

Immediately, the green flames were extinguished. No sound was heard, except the panting and gasping of Dartz and the Pharaoh.

Rafael didn't know what happened next. One moment he saw the green flames die, and the next he was checking the now unconscious Pharaoh's pulse. It was there, barely.

"Take him back to his room." Dartz huffed, supporting himself against the stone snake beside him

Rafael simply straightened up, eyes focused on the Pharaoh as Valon and Amelda cautiously approached and took the unconscious king. He watched them leave before turning his attention to the weakened master. "Are you alright?" He asked as he approached Dartz, offering a hand as he fought to steady himself.

Dartz responded to his offer by waving it away and straightening up. "Something is working against my magic." He said as he stared up the wall holding many spirits, his fist shaking by his side. "What could it be?"

Rafael stood by Dartz's side silently. He had stayed behind, wanting to ask about the Orichalcos stone, but seeing that his lord isn't up to it, he focused his attention elsewhere—specifically the walls holding so many souls captive.

His eyes widened as he spotted one particular soul. He moved for a closer look. It was a little girl, about age 5. Her hands were pressed against the slab. Tears trekked down her eyes.

"That girl harbored great power"

Dartz stood by Rafael's side, following the Swordsman's gaze. "But not as much as the Pharaoh, unfortunately. So she's not enough of a sacrifice."

Rafael listened to Dartz with a calm facade, but inside, he was shocked. Didn't Dartz capture evil souls?

As though reading his thoughts, Dartz continued. "To cleanse the world of evil, sometimes the innocent must be sacrificed."

* * *

AN: All the Pharaoh bashing is what I made Rafael think and believe in this story. The latter values his monster cards and seeing the Pharaoh sacrifice them without a second thought in their duel would most likely leave a negative impression on him. Hence, his thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

_**This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only and is never official. I do not claim ownership over Yu-Gi-Oh! and anything that's not mine. Yu-Gi-Oh! and everything that's not mine belong to their respective owners. I express my deep gratitude to the respective owners for making things I could never have done in a million years and I hope I will not be sued for being such an expressive fan. **_

_**WARNINGS: violence, force-feeding, minor coarse language, experimenting with different writing styles, OOC characters (in the cases of Amelda and Valon, I based their personalities on my interpretation of Kaiba's and Jou's respectively.), Possible errors… READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! **_

_Flashback/emphasis  
_'Thoughts/quotes'**  
**

* * *

**Touch Me Not****  
****Chapter 3**

Rafael couldn't sleep.

He simply laid down on his bed, his weight making the mattress dip, as he stared at the sea green ceiling. For the past four hours, his mind probed and dissected the entire situation, focusing on Dartz's most recent quote

"_To cleanse the world of evil, sometimes the innocent must be sacrificed."_

He frowned as the statement kept repeating itself in his head, contradicting one other that got him here in the first place. He closed his eyes as his mind brought back the memory…

_He stared in awe at the island that had beckoned to him. He took a step off the path, not noticing it vanish the moment both feet touched the island's grounds. His eyes were focused on the ancient building perched on the island's center, particularly upon its mouth where he could see a robed figure standing before it. _

_The figure stretched out a hand, palm upward, reaching out to him. The other hand pulled off the hood over its head, allowing pale sea green tresses to dance with the wind. _

_Rafael took a step forward. He paused before he could take another, having felt a warm hand upon his shoulder. Turning around, he found himself looking at his three most trusted guardians. _

_Guardian Eatos stood directly in front of him, wings folded elegantly behind her. She was giving him a look that he couldn't decipher; and that made him frown. He gently gripped her hand that was upon his shoulder. It passed right through his fingers but the comforting warmth lingered on his palm. _

_The other two guardians nodded at him in unison before fading away, leaving him and Eatos alone. He looked into his guardian's eyes, silently asking for her guidance. She smiled at him before disappearing in a shower of golden white feathers that danced around him before fading. He took a deep breath, focusing his senses on the disappearing warmth. _

_His guardians wanted him to make a choice on his own. _

_He steered himself to look at the figure beckoning to him. He was anxious as he felt the strange power radiating from the figure and the looming building, but he knew there was no point in worrying himself. He could feel his guardians assuring him that whatever his choice, they would never leave his side. _

_He made up his mind._

_Head held high, he took another step forward—and another—until he had reduced the distance between himself and the robed figure to a mere five feet. _

_The man smiled at him, chuckling at the look on Rafael's face upon seeing his strange eyes. He spread his arms. "Welcome to Paradius, Rafael" Turning to face the mouth of the building, he added, "I've been expecting you."_

_Rafael allowed a second for the stunned look to grace his face before replying. "What for?"_

_The man didn't answer. Instead, he half-glanced at Rafael and silently gestured for him to follow as he entered the building; torches flared to life with each step he took. _

_Against his better judgement, Rafael followed. He noticed that the hall looked ancient. Torches lined the honey coloured walls, illuminating the carvings upon them. Rafael wasn't much of an expert regarding ancient civilizations, but he was sure that the symbols he was seeing belonged to one. _

_His legs managed to lead him into a room (an incredibly large one at that). It was round and bare save for what looked like an altar with two unusually bright torches at the center. _

"_You have been chosen."_

_He turned towards the sound, finding the man standing in one side of the room. "Chosen for what?" He asked, keeping his ground as the man approached him. _

_The man paused to look at the wall. "To bring salvation to this world." He added as he brushed the back of his hand against the wall. _

_It was then Rafael noticed the carvings on the wall. With wide eyes, he took a closer look. The entire wall was carved into small tablets. What nearly made his jaw drop were the carvings on the tablets. _

_People of all types and from all times were intricately carved in poses that made them look like they were pushing against their prisons. The craftsmanship was so fine and so realistic, he wouldn't be surprised if they managed to jump out and escape!_

"_This world is so full of evil." The man continued, breaking Rafael out of his trance. "Sometimes, I wonder if it is even possible to be rid of it without shattering whatever remains."_

_Rafael looked away, fists clenching. True, there was a lot of evil in the world—his living relatives were proof of that. However, there was good as well—his mother, father, brother, and sister. Sadly, they were taken away from him. _

_And so, as the cliché question goes, 'why must the good die young?' _

"_Which is why I called you, Rafael." The man said as he focused his gaze on the blonde. "A soul that remains pure and innocent, despite the reign of evil, could be strong enough to save this world."_

"_And how do you think would I accomplish that?" Rafael asked slowly._

_The man chuckled before looking at a particular tablet on the wall. "Do you know why the walls are carved with people from different timelines?"_

_Silence…_

"_They are souls. They're sealed within the tablets." The man explained, turning once more to Rafael. "Evil souls." He added with a smirk. _

"_Evil souls?" Rafael parroted, looking the room over. Had Rafael not seen his trusted cards coming to life without the aid of holographic projectors, nor heard this man's voice when he was stranded, he wouldn't have believed him. _

"_Yes." The man acknowledged with a nod. "Evil souls that would've further soiled this world had it not been for the good that triumphed over them." He added as he pulled a Duel Monster card from his sleeve and held it out for Rafael to see. _

_The Seal of Orichalcos._

_Rafael stared at the card, having fought the urge to backpedal. He could feel raw power pulsing from the card! _

"_You said there is much evil in the world," Rafael said after a deep breath. Seeing the man nod, he continued. "What makes you think I can handle that much evil?" He bit out. He wasn't the type to display weakness, but he was also not the type to deny facts. He had a good life, but all that ended when the accident happened. Everything had been spiralling down since then, from his relatives stealing all of his family's wealth to him being left to fend for himself. If it weren't for his guardians, he probably would've added to the growing population of evil. _

"_Your soul remained pure and strong, despite everything that has happened to you." The man said calmly. "You have great power and an incorruptible spirit. It is that which will ensure your triumph." _

_Rafael stared at the card as though he was expecting it to bite (his calm façade masked it though). The man, seeing right through his exterior, chuckled. "Do not underestimate yourself. One innocent soul is powerful enough to vanquish much evil." His green eye glowed briefly as did the card. _

_Still, Rafael was uncertain; but deep down, he saw truth in the man's words. He recalled the pain of losing his family, the pain he felt from his relatives' betrayal, and the pain of accepting that he has no home. His fist shook. He didn't want others to go through what he did. _

_Then he felt that ever familiar warmth. His lips curled into a smile. They were always there when he was in distress, always offering their support in whatever he did. Now was not any different. They assured him of their loyalty, whatever his choice. Their soothing presence calmed his spirit, leaving him with a decision— a decision he didn't doubt one bit. _

_The man smirked as Rafael took the card. _

. . . . . . .

The sun on his face brought him out of the light sleep he fell into. Getting up, he made sure to rid himself of his slumber's evidence before opening the door. Without even thinking, his feet took him across the corridor. Stopping before a door across the master's, he knocked.

There was no answer.

Rafael fought the urge to palm his face. He shook his head before opening the door.

Just as he had suspected, Valon was fast asleep—why did he trust him in the first place? He was slouched in the chair located by the bedside, hands folded over his stomach, and snoring obnoxiously. The bed's occupant was wide awake, eyes immediately locked on the newcomer. Rafael noticed the fleeting unease on the Pharaoh's face before it was replaced by a scowl.

"Good morning to you too." Rafael said, unintentionally making it sound like a growl, as he approached the bed.

The Pharaoh growled, slightly shifting away from Rafael as the blonde sat on one side, right by Valon's knees, and started shaking his comrade awake.

"Wha? Wha? I'm up… I'm up!" Valon grumbled as he straightened up and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "The hell's your problem, Amel— Rafael!" He nearly squeaked out the last part.

"You're supposed to keep watch." Rafael reprimanded, giving the Pharaoh a half-glance.

Valon followed the blonde's gaze. He couldn't help the smirk creeping on his face when the Pharaoh shrank back from their eyes, still maintaining that hostile scowl. "It's not like he's goin' anywhere." He said, chuckling when the Pharaoh growled and looked away.

Rafael grunted, his eyes momentarily lingering on the Pharaoh's collar before shifting back to Valon's face, the latter immediately dropping the smug look when Rafael gave him his sternest glare. Before he could make his retort, the door swung open.

Amelda barged inside, mumbling inaudibly. He was carrying a tray that held a platter of sandwiches, three cups stacked together, a pitcher condensing at the sides, and a steaming bowl with a dainty handle of a spoon jutting from its mouth. Seeing Valon's huge smirk, he steeled himself to look as menacing as possible—though his burden nullified much of the effect. (The aroma alone was disarming…) "Not. One. Word." He growled threateningly.

Still, Valon huffed in mock-offence. "No tip for ya then…"

Rafael couldn't help but admire Amelda's self-control as of the moment, for—in response to Valon's comment—he took a deep breath, placed the tray on the bedside table (minus the bowl), and focused his gaze on Rafael. "Dartz wants him to have this." He said, handing Rafael the bowl.

The Pharaoh stiffened as all eyes were on him. He leaned back as far as his condition would allow. Screw his injuries! He was not taking anything from his enemies, especially not food from a damned spoon!

Rafael was the first to break his gaze from the Pharaoh, the other two following not long after. They shared a look. He was also the first to move by going to the opposite side of the bed (after handing Amelda back the bowl). He loomed behind his target's back, both locking eyes for one moment, before he grasped the Pharaoh by the shoulder of his injured arm and the wrist of the other.

The Pharaoh had tried to get up the moment Rafael approached the side he had pushed himself in. Unfortunately, his actions resulted in pain and a brief blurring of his vision. This caused him to freeze—long enough for Rafael to grab hold of him. He attempted to pull away. This earned him nothing but a painful squeeze on his wrist and the beginning of a skill-shattering migraine, but that still did not stop him.

Rafael growled warningly as the Pharaoh continued to struggle. Restraining the latter wasn't much of a challenge. It was more of a nuisance, considering that he was trying his hardest not to aggravate the Pharaoh's injuries. "Relax. It's just breakfast." He grounded out, going as far as patting the Pharaoh's good arm, hoping he'd calm down.

The Pharaoh responded with a jerk that took much of his strength. Immediately, the consequences struck him full force. He froze and instinctively curled inward, riding the wave of pain as silently as he could. His skull was pounding, every breath was suddenly torture, and his body was slowly losing the battle against gravity. To add insult to injury, his effort didn't even twitch Rafael's fingers. "Let. Go." He bit out, hoping that the intimidating tone managed to mask the slight tremors in his voice.

"I will," Rafael answered. "If you cooperate." He added, tightening his hold on the Pharaoh's wrist.

The Pharaoh suppressed a whimper as his captor's vice-like grip cut off his circulation. Normally, he would've countered the words with his own choice ones seeped in bravado; but now, he gave no answer. Unlike his previous ordeals, which always gave him a fighting chance—no matter how small, he knew he didn't stand a chance against this one. He was in the enemies' clutches, completely defenceless, and (worst of all) very much alone. The only thing that was alluding his enemies' complete victory over him was their inability to take his soul. Unfortunately, he couldn't make use of that one opportunity as he himself didn't know _why_ they couldn't take his soul; and he knew that they weren't going to stay clueless forever.

This was a hopeless situation—one that just delayed the inevitable and toyed with his psyche; but despite that, he refused to give in. He was going to fight, even if it would cost him more than what he would gain. Focusing his now blurring vision on his captured hand, he tried tugging himself free. The growl behind him made him flinch, but that only served to fuel his cornered spirit.

Rafael's self-control was beginning to waver as his target continued in his thrashing. He was sorely tempted to use brute force—strangling him for instance—just to intimidate him. He could do it. He was more than twice his target's size, and his target wasn't much of a threat as of the moment.

The temptation, however, was defeated by a speck of pity for the captive.

He looked up to face his comrades; both were on their feet, eyes focused on him and his captive. He could tell that they also didn't want to add to the Pharaoh's injuries, hence the reason they hadn't intervened. He caught Amelda's eye, the latter immediately getting the message.

The Pharaoh froze in the span of seconds that Amelda took to get across the bed and sit right in front of him. Sandwiched between two men, each more than capable of overpowering him, he swallowed despite himself. The hand encasing his shoulder released him in favour of pressing an arm against his chest. The warm end of the spoon gently nudged his lips. He glared at it and at the spoon's handler before turning his head away.

Amelda clicked his tongue at the blatant display of defiance. He handed the bowl to Valon, who had finally left his chair and settled beside the injured king, before grabbing the Pharaoh's mandible and pulling his face back. "Don't make this any harder on yourself." He warned as he forced his captive to meet his eyes.

The Pharaoh glowered at Amelda. He kept his mouth closed as tight as his teeth would allow and resumed his (weak) struggling. He knew it was pointless and that it was more of a liability given the situation, but he didn't care.

His resolve, however, was nearly crushed when the garnet-haired biker pinched his nose, effectively stopping his airflow.

He froze then, his body going rigid as his lungs began to crave for needed air. He kept his mouth closed, despite his body's protests against the act. His will to fight, unfortunately, didn't last long against his need to breathe.

Something liquid and warm was forced down his throat before he could even take a breath. His jaw was held shut in order to prevent a possible return trip. He shook his head from side to side, hoping to throw off the hand that threatened to break his nose as the menacing grip tightened, and pulled at the arm holding him down. However, his captors had no difficulty subduing his efforts. It did nothing but worsen things for himself.

After a few more fruitless struggles, the combined forces of his weakening body and his captors' resilience had him completely immobilized.

"Damn" Valon commented as he leaned back, careful not to spill the bowl's contents. "He's quite the fighter."

Amelda just grunted, one hand clamped over the Pharaoh's mouth and nose and the other massaging the captive's throat, encouraging him to swallow. A few gentle strokes later, he felt the spoonful pass through. It was confirmed by the audible gulp. Sighing in relief, he released the monarch and watched idly as he laboriously gasped in the much needed air. "You should've cooperated." Amelda stated once the Pharaoh's breathing lessened in intensity.

The Pharaoh's glare was as hostile as ever. "Why… should… I?"

Rafael snorted. "That sounds quite childish, don't you think?"

The monarch growled but didn't answer. He couldn't even respond properly! Everything about him felt heavy and hurting. It was all too much. He was so tempted to let his heavy lids close and let sleep take him away but a strong grip on his jaw jolted him back to awareness. He stiffened when his face was pulled up. Slate-greys stared him down, and passively watched as exhaustion gradually extinguished the fight in him.

"For Christ's sake, mate!" Valon burst out, startling everyone in the room. He grabbed the spoon from Amelda and ate the contents. "See?" He added after swallowing and handing Amelda back the utensil fully-loaded for another round. "It's just soup!"

Amelda and Rafael stared at their comrade for a good three seconds before focusing their attention on the Pharaoh. The monarch no longer struggled. Whether it was from exhaustion and weakness or Valon's outburst, they could only guess (though it's more likely the former two). With his head bowed slightly to the side, the monarch peered miserably at the new spoonful Amelda held out to his lips. He lowered his gaze before accept it. This went without fuss for a while before he refused halfway through the meal. His captors, satisfied with his fill, helped him lie back down. He fell asleep before his head touched the pillow.

"Did you notice his temperature?" Amelda asked, watching the steady rise and fall of the Pharaoh's chest.

Rafael frowned, his lips forming into a grim line—an obvious yes to the other. He placed the back of his hand against the Pharaoh's neck, hoping he was wrong. Unfortunately, he wasn't. The pulse was weak and the skin felt hot—hot enough to be a serious issue. He frowned and groaned in frustration as he retracted his hand. "Get the Doc." He ordered Valon.

"Can't," Valon answered immediately. "Birdman ain't here."

"Where is he then?" Amelda asked urgently as he hurried to the door.

Valon looked thoughtful for a moment. "Dartz sent 'im back to I2*" He said as he got off his perch. "Hasn't been back since."

Rafael rubbed his forehead irritably. "Tell him to come back. Now!" He practically barked out the last part, fuelling the record-breaking speed Valon used to escape the room.

Despite expecting the possibility, Amelda was still surprised by the blonde's outburst. Rafael _rarely_ raised his voice. It proved that he wasn't the only one whoknew how serious the Pharaoh's situation was. If the monarch didn't recover soon, death would steal his soul away. They couldn't have that. It would destroy their goal before they could even reach it!

Why wasn't Dartz taking this as seriously as he should?

Seeing Valon's things roughly deposited on one side of the bedside table, Amelda quickly left his post and went through his comrade's things. Upon picking up a cell phone, he briefly closed his eyes and pictured himself smacking Valon across the head. "Idiot." He growled. He flipped open the phone, found the right contact, dialled, and now waited for the other end to pick up.

Three rings later…

"Olá—"

"We need you back here. Immediately."

A short pause…

"I'm on my way."

* * *

_**A/N: I apologize for the extremely long wait. My former computer and hard drive decided to go with the whole '2012 end of the world' crap and, well, ended themselves; so I had to redo everything—and I mean EVERYTHING. This chapter was just the tiny, itsy bitsy speck halfway through the iceberg. I never thought I'd get to this point; but here we are… more than half a year later. I hope this chap makes up for it. **_

_**As a bonus, I made a cover art. It's…. something; but I hope it can make up for my snail-paced updates *puppy eyes***_

_***) I2 – Industrial Illusions **_

_**More reviews = faster updates. **_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Important declarations: **_

_**This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only. It is never official. I do not claim ownership over Yu-Gi-Oh! and any copyrighted property and anything else that's not mine. Yu-Gi-Oh! and any other copyrighted property and everything else that's not mine belong to their respective owners. I am not associated with the respective owners in any way. I express my deep gratitude to the respective owners for making things I could never have done in a million years and I hope I will not be sued for being such an expressive fan. **_

_**This fanfic is fiction. Inaccuracy of facts is possible. **_

_**My opinions/beliefs/choices do not necessarily reflect the opinions/beliefs/choices of this website, other fans, other websites, groups, etc. **_

_**This fanfic may be subject to editing at any given time. If that will happen, I'll announce it either within this fanfic or in my profile (under 'POSTS') **_

_**WARNINGS: This fanfic contains minor coarse language, Pharaoh whump, OOCness with some characters, dark themes…so, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.**_

_**CHAPTER-SPECIFIC WARNINGS: angsty moments, verbosity, and an OC with a bird. …READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!**_**  
**

* * *

**Touch Me Not  
Chapter 4**

Morning was replaced by noon. Throughout that time, the swordsmen did what they could to nurse their captive back to health. Unfortunately the Pharaoh's condition had only worsened. His temperature rose, his body shook, and his breathing became ragged. He didn't even touch his lunch. The swordsmen didn't bother forcing him to eat, fearing that his condition would worsen should they repeat the events of breakfast.

"Damn it!" Amelda shouted, ignoring the glare he got from Rafael. He punched the wall before turning to the door. "What's taking those two so long?"

Rafael ignored his comrade, his attention fixed on the Pharaoh. They had removed his top, hoping that that would cool him down, and provided him with a light blanket. Rafael was currently pouring water through the Pharaoh's parted lips, careful not to have him choke. So far, the Pharaoh hasn't rejected the offered fluid. He placed the back of his hand against the monarch's forehead. It was like touching a furnace!

After what felt like an eternity, the door opened and in came the two people they had been waiting for most of the morning.

"Sorry for being late." A middle-aged man with messy black hair, emerald eyes, and honey-hued skin stated as he swept through the room, his cloak billowing behind him, and eyes trained on the bed's occupant. Placing his briefcase down, he placed a hand on the Pharaoh's neck—right over his jugular. With a frustrated 'tsk,' he grabbed his briefcase and dug through the contents. Using a stethoscope, he listened to the Pharaoh's heartbeat. "What the hell happened?" He asked after putting the instrument away. "He was stable when I last saw him." He added.

"He wouldn't eat breakfast." Valon supplied as he leaned by the door and glared at the ball of yellow down perched on the man's shoulder. "Shouldn't you keep that thing away from him? It could be carrying some sort of disease or something"

As if sensing that it was being insulted, the 'thing' let out an indignant squawk and ruffled its feathers.

The man ignored Valon and turned to the other bikers. "He wouldn't eat breakfast, so…" He dragged it out in a questioning tone, hoping that the others would fill him in.

"We forced him to." Rafael finally said.

"But we were careful" Amelda added quickly.

"You didn't hit him or anything, did you?" The doctor asked as he set up his things on a small table Valon had provided. The two bikers shook their heads; but the doctor was still skeptical. "You sure?"

"Can't you just shut up and fix him?" Amelda snarled.

"I just need to know what happened." The doctor defended as he began examining the Pharaoh. "Narrow down the list of possible diagnosis and complications."

The room was silent (save for the Pharaoh's laboured breathing) as the doctor went through his examination. Occasionally, he would ask questions which the bikers answered without much difficulty. After half an hour, he pulled back with a sigh. He placed a hand on his face—forefinger and thumb over his eyes. "He has sepsis." He turned to the bikers. "Blood poisoning. The infection has invaded his bloodstream."

The bikers froze.

"Is that…bad?" Valon asked, even though the doctor's face said it all.

"It can be lethal," The doctor stated and turned to them. "But the diagnosis is based on what I see." He said before taking a small case out of his bag. "A blood test is needed to confirm whether I'm right or not." To reinforce his statement, he pulled out a needle and a syringe.

As the doctor did just what he had said, Rafael went to the open balcony. He took a deep breath, shook his head, and palmed his face. If the Pharaoh succumbed to his injuries, his soul would be unattainable. He would've failed his mission—his most important one yet. Inadvertently, his failure would mean his comrades' downfall, as well as that of Doma. Everything they did was connected to the other, his mission being a huge part of everyone else's. Dartz had stressed the importance of obtaining the Pharaoh's soul for them to succeed, and he had promised to do just that.

Now, he could do nothing but watch as the Pharaoh's soul was slipping away.

No wonder why Dartz was pissed at him.

"This isn't your fault."

Rafael glanced behind him to see his garnet-head comrade standing a few feet away before returning his gaze to the ocean beyond the balcony. He remained silent. He chose to ignore said comrade who now stood beside him, also staring at the ocean.

After a few minutes of silence, Amelda turned to Rafael. "You did what you had to do. How were you supposed to know which soul the Seal was supposed to take?"

Rafael shook his head. "I should've taken him on the train before the accident. I had the chance." He had witnessed the Pharaoh's duel with the Haga kid. They were on the roof, the seal surrounding them. He had thought about interfering and taking the Pharaoh. However, he changed his mind at the last minute. He wanted to watch the duel, observe the Pharaoh's strategy as he was still hoping that Dartz might give him a second chance to duel the legendary monarch.

Oh, how he hated himself for thinking he was going to get a second chance.

Amelda watched the ongoing conflict within Rafael. He placed a hand on the latter's shoulder.  
"You were just trying to redeem yourself." He said softly, having understood the blonde's turmoil. "The accident was beyond anyone's control."

A moment of silence passed before Rafael responded in a whisper. "I could've prevented this, though." He closed his eyes, a frown creasing his forehead, and slammed his fist on the railing.

Amelda sighed and left, dragging Valon away when the latter tried to approach the blonde. Rafael needed some time to himself in order to clear his mind.

…

The sky had darkened considerably, much like the master's mood, as night arrived. The blood test had confirmed the doctor's words. In response to that, the bikers worked tirelessly. They made sure that the Pharaoh was never left alone for more than an hour and that everything needed for his recovery was provided.

The Pharaoh's room had been turned into a makeshift ward (since, for some reason, Dartz vehemently didn't want him in a hospital). There was a mechanical ventilator for breathing, an IV line on his good hand, and a scheduled dose of antibiotics.

According to the doctor, the Pharaoh's condition was at the beginning phase. The infection was _yet_ to cause serious damage. That was enough of a motivation for the swordsmen. Amelda, Rafael, and the doctor took turns administering the antibiotics and prednisone* (Valon being too queasy when it came to needles).

For now, the captive's condition was stable. He wasn't getting worse.

…but he was also not getting any better.

Rafael paused at the Pharaoh's door with a sigh. Amelda had informed him that Dartz's decision remained unchanged despite the captive's stagnant condition. Their master didn't want the Pharaoh off the island, at all costs!

"Damn..." Rafael growled as he ran a hand over his face. Dartz wanted them to ensure the Pharaoh's recovery, yet he was limiting their options.

He might as well ask them to get the moon using only a lasso.

Opening the door, he entered the Pharaoh's room. What he found made his heart stop.

The Pharaoh was on his side, curled up as much as his state would allow. The red linen blanket they had brought in covered most of his body, leaving only half his head visible. He was facing away from the door. Rafael could see that he had removed his oxygen mask as it was on the bedside table.

Knowing the king, Rafael guessed that he wasn't aware of his presence yet. Otherwise, he would've stopped his quiet sobs.

He closed the door and crossed the room, settling himself on the cushioned chair by the bed beyond the Pharaoh's line of sight. All that, he did with amazing silence. Gazing at the Pharaoh's shuddering form, he couldn't help but see the king in a different light.

The Pharaoh, though powerful and confident, was still a child—a teenager to be exact; and teenagers were renowned for making careless mistakes. It's a stage of confusion and uncertainty

'It still doesn't excuse his actions' Rafael reasoned with himself, remembering Dartz's words and their duel.

The Pharaoh shuddered and curled up tighter, mumbling something that had Rafael straining his ears to hear.

"Aibou…. I'm so sorry."

Rafael looked away. The king was actually remorseful and hurting (in the emotional sense); he just hid it behind a façade of strength and confidence, exposing it only when he felt secure enough to do so. Rafael had initially thought that the Pharaoh just didn't care, that his pride was strong enough to dismiss such things as though they didn't matter.

He had completely forgotten that the Pharaoh was a human being—one who was trained to keep his emotions in check.

With a sigh, Rafael slumped in his chair.

He realized a second too late his mistake…

The Pharaoh's sobbing came to an abrupt halt. His body stiffened when he heard the sound. He swiped a hand over his face (presumably wiping his tears) before lifting and turning his head to look at Rafael. The blonde was trying his hardest not to look like a deer caught in headlights.

The silence and tension between them was heavy, and neither wanted to make the first move, until…

"How… long." The Pharaoh whispered hoarsely as he struggled (and failed) to sit up; the façade was fighting its way back. Unfortunately, the pain in his heart was making its return difficult. The battle within him was a fierce one, giving him little control over his emotions. He averted his gaze. He didn't want his captor to see the turmoil in his eyes.

"Long enough." Rafael answered, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. He had honestly hoped that the Pharaoh would cry himself to sleep. He wasn't exactly good when it came to these types of situations.

The Pharaoh kept silent, his body still trembling with contained sobs. He was still in pain—physically, mentally, and emotionally. He forced himself to settle down. He kept his mouth closed and fought the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. He would not cry. He couldn't let Rafael see more than he already had.

Rafael bit his lip and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his lap. He was at a loss. He knew he couldn't let the Pharaoh stay stubborn over this ('it might worsen his condition,' he insistently thought), but he really didn't want to deal with it. His heart hammered in his chest as he deliberated his options.

Glancing at the Pharaoh, he made his choice with a resigned sigh.

The Pharaoh tensed up when he felt a hand upon his shoulder. Opening one bleary eye, he found that Rafael had moved to the opposite side of the bed, blue eyes looking straight at his face. Fiercely snapping both eyes open, he growled and jerked it away. "Don't touch me." He hissed, ignoring the nauseating pain that flared within him.

"I'm not here to hurt you." Rafael reassured, though he knew the king was never going to buy such a claim. "You're doing much of that yourself." He added as an afterthought.

"You're making things worse." The Pharaoh answered angrily, his eyes narrowing as his vision swam and darkened momentarily. "Just leave me be." He demanded as he laid flat on his back and turned his head to the opposite side, away from Rafael's prying eyes. He bit back a whimper as his vision teetered.

"You know I can't do that." Rafael said quietly, noting the Pharaoh's weak tone. He returned to his prior place.

"Why…not?" The Pharaoh breathed out, his head pounding nastily. Not wanting to see his room spin, he closed his eyes. "My current predicament not enough of a punishment?" He grit his teeth. This useless conversation was aggravating his headache.

Rafael just watched the Pharaoh's strife. When the latter attempted to shift to his side, Rafael gently took hold of his (good) shoulder, hoping to dissuade his target from making any unnecessary movements. "You shouldn't move too much. You could hurt yourself even more."

"Then leave me be if you're so concerned about my well-being." The Pharaoh snapped, though he made no move to remove Rafael's hand. He was tired and he just wanted to grieve; but he'd be damned if Rafael knew that.

"Is that any way to show your gratitude?" Rafael said sternly. "I did save your life, in case you've forgotten." It's a shady move, but he needed his charge to stop being too difficult. Despite the king's pride, he's known to be humble when indebted.

But not today…

"Considering the situation," The king hissed with such venom that had Rafael leaning back a bit, despite the hushed tone. "I am _far_ from grateful. The only reason you saved my life, was so you could take my soul." His eyes narrowed as his anger grew. "Don't you_ dare_ take me for a fool, you bastard!"

Rafael was rendered speechless. He only snapped out of the shock he fell into when the Pharaoh, greatly drained by his outburst, gasped for air. The king was flat on his back, his eyes scrunched closed, sweat dripping from his brow, as his chest heaved with heavy breaths.

Rafael sprang out of his cushioned chair, grabbed the abandoned oxygen mask by the bedside table, and strapped it over the captive's nose and mouth. He slammed a fist on the makeshift call button attached to one of the bed's posts before ensuring that the ventilator was pumping adequate oxygen.

The Pharaoh was still gasping heavily, as though every breath wasn't enough. Fingers were curled into a tight, shaky fist as his body trembled. He'd shake his head from side to side with a pained whimper.

Rafael was definitely dumbstruck at this point as he watched the Pharaoh struggle through the episode. He kept glancing at the door. He couldn't help but fidget with every second that went by without the doctor's much needed presence.

Two minutes passed; still no sign of the doctor.

Getting desperate, Rafael carefully got on the bed and gently (but shakily) took the Pharaoh. He cradled the king's spiky head on one arm and used his personal handkerchief to dab the sweat from his captive's pained face.

The Pharaoh opened his eyes. He was immediately met with the sight of Rafael's face looming over his, swimming in and out of focus and darkening at the edges. His heart was galloping, his body was shaking, and his lungs felt like it was being crushed!

"Don't…touch…me." The Pharaoh huffed as he tried to pull away. What would've been a powerful struggle felt nothing but mere twitches to Rafael.

"Calm down" Rafael said quietly, though he himself felt anything but calm. "I'm just trying to help." He added as he rubbed circles on the Pharaoh's cheek.

Another minute ticked by. Rafael glared at the still-closed door.

The Pharaoh soon fell limp in Rafael's arms, but his half-lidded eyes and slight wheezing revealed that he was still conscious (much to Rafael's relief). Occasionally, he'd try to fight the blonde by either avoiding the handkerchief or trying to get up. Rafael, not having the heart to use full force, would try to dissuade him much like a mother would to a naughty child.

Rafael didn't release his charge, even when the doctor (closely followed by Amelda and Valon) practically tumbled into the room half a minute later.

"He's in shock." The doctor surmised after feeling the king's pulse. Taking a syringe, he quickly administered the medication

The Pharaoh's eyes slid shut, his breathing soon evening out.

Seeing that the doctor needed to do some standard procedures, Rafael got up. He settled next to the other swordsmen and watched passively as the king was given treatment. The three moved to help when the doctor set up a small ECG, attaching the nodes to various areas of the Pharaoh's bare chest.

Now, everything was silent save for the monotonous beeping that echoed around the room as the machine buzzed to life.

"It got bad….didn't it." Valon voiced out dejectedly.

The doctor sighed. "His organs are failing. The blood-flow is not enough to keep them active." He turned to the bikers. "He needs to be admitted to the ICU immediately."

"Dartz wouldn't let that happen."Amelda said knowingly. "He's adamant about it." He added when the doctor was about to argue. "We've tried to reason with him, but he just wouldn't listen. He wouldn't even come out of that room he has holed himself up in."

The doctor palmed his face and groaned in frustration.

"But you know what to do." Rafael suddenly said. When the doctor nodded, he continued. "Then tell us what you need."

"That's a long list—"

"Just tell us!" Rafael growled, his tone screaming business.

Dropping his hands to his sides, the doctor shook his head slightly before enumerating the needed items that had two of the bikers' eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. The doctor wasn't exaggerating when he said that it was a long list.

"…X-rays and laboratory equipment aren't needed though, as we have them in the lab."

Valon threw his hands up. "Why don't we have all those? Isn't Paradius loaded, and high-tech, and all that?"

Amelda sighed before addressing his flabbergasted comrade. "Dartz is only after souls. He could care less what happens to the body."

"But I was patched up here!" Valon intoned. "I've always been patched up here, so there must be some hospital stuff right here."

"There is." Rafael said, gaining everyone's attention. "But it's not enough for something as intensive as this."

"So we travel thousands of miles just to raid hospitals?!"

"No one said anything about raiding hospitals, Valon." Rafael said. "We have the means to pay for what we need."

"Still doesn't change the fact that we're traveling for who knows how long." Valon countered. "The Pharaoh could be dead by then."

Rafael averted his gaze, choosing to ignore Valon while the latter seethed in silence.

As unlikely as it was, Valon had a very valid point.

Sensing that the waters were safe, "Maybe Dartz could move our location…" Amelda suggested. "Preferably somewhere near a hospital."

Rafael shook his head. "I suggested that to him hours ago. He _insisted_ that we don't move our location and that the Pharaoh shouldn't leave the island."

Amelda mouthed a silent 'oh' before turning to the doctor. "Do you have any idea where our location is and how far we are from the nearest city?"

"Somewhere in the North Atlantic ocean." Was the doctor's answer. "The nearest hospital is—I don't know—thousands of kilometres away from where we are."

"Specifics, Guerriero. I need specifics…" Amelda almost sneered.

"Three thousand five hundred kilometres from the US." The doctor clarified after checking his handheld. "Total travel time is six hours—three hours going there and another three to return here…"

Silence fell between them as they all looked at the fragile figure on the bed. Seconds passed before Amelda dared to speak what was on everyone's minds.

"Can he live that long without the equipment and medications?"

Guerriero sighed and suddenly found his shoes interesting. "Just get it here as soon as you can."

"Tha's just dandy." Valon said sarcastically. "How the hell are we s'posed t' 'get it here as soon as you can?'" He continued, mimicking the doctor's thick Spanish accent at the end.

"By starting first thing tomorrow." Rafael declared. "You and Amelda will be spending the day collecting the things on the list. Both of you should be back before night. Guerriero and I will be staying here to monitor the Pharaoh's condition."

"But—"

"That's our best option." Rafael interjected powerfully. "As a matter of fact, it's our only option; unless Dartz changes his mind."

That seemed to deflate the fight in Valon.

"Both of you should get some rest." Rafael advised as he approached the Pharaoh. He didn't need to see in order to know that they left—the sound of the door opening and closing was all the proof he needed. Eyes focused on the resting Pharaoh, he settled down on the chair.

The slight shuffling behind him caught his attention. Turning around, he found that the doctor was still there.

"I need to check his blood pressure." Guerriero said as he neared the bed, BP apparatus in hand. "To see if the prednisone is taking effect."

Rafael just nodded before returning his attention to the Pharaoh. "Where's Marcado?" He asked, noticing that the doctor's parakeet wasn't perched on his shoulder like it usually was.

Guerriero just grinned as he put on his stethoscope. "I couldn't bring him here. He might annoy the Pharaoh."

Rafael snorted lightly. "Why does that matter? The Pharaoh's already annoyed by being here."

The doctor was silent for a while as he listened to the king's heart sounds. He took note of the pressures before addressing Rafael in an even tone. "I want him to be as comfortable as possible before his soul is taken away."

Rafael sighed and leaned forward, propping his elbows upon his lap. "He's an evil person." He said slowly, but his mind questioned his certainty. "He killed thousands and he never cared. He doesn't deserve to be comfortable in his final moments."

His mind was screaming at him now…

Having finished the examination, the doctor removed the BP apparatus from the king and straightened up. He bit his lip. "I…don't think he's evil;" He said slowly to make sure Rafael wouldn't think he misheard. "lost perhaps, but not…evil."

Rafael stared at the doctor. "What made you think that?"

Guerriero released a breath and looked at Rafael straight in the eye.

"Evil has no conscience. It is not capable of remorse."

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_***) Prednisone – drug that can raise blood pressure. **_


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